I won the lottery!

I TOOK IN 5 OLD EUROMILLIONS tickets to my local shop to be barcode-checked and guess what? On Friday 21 October I won £3.20!!!


That's all of FIVE US dollars.


I didn't know it was possible to win so little but I still walked off in a daze, daydreaming about living up a yuppie tower block with Sky TV and a new computer.


I spent about half the money on a half litre of Fizz cherry flavour cyder, which is made in Lithuania.


Hey I found a great new blog at Lilly's place http://mymethdiaries.blogspot.com. Drop by!



*******

Not as cheesy as it could be
BEETHOVEN'S FÜR ELISE
chill out dance version
actually i really like this it's the sort of music the Queen would listen to if she and Prince Philip dropped Es together after a long day's ribbon-cutting...





This is more Prince Edward's style, methinks...
PACHEBEL'S CANON ~ CLUB MIX





... and Princess Ann mellowing out with a spliff....

Corned Beef Hash

THAT LAZY COW ANNA GRACE HASN'T POSTED ANYTHING TODAY. Probably in a heroin-induced stupor. Or sick as a parrot due to a lack of gear.

I scored a £10 bag this morning to go with my shopping (corned beef, cyder, cigarettes). I borrowed £20 off someone till Monday morning.

The £10 bag knocked me unconscious all day. Really good stuff it was. I'm buying more tomorrow. Told you I would wait till Monday to decide whether to go with antidepressants (street heroin) or death (a train).

When I looked at what I had posted I thought "why did you say all this". I know it was true and all but still. I suppose I wanted people to get used to the idea that I wasn't long for this world.

I only feel OK now because I've been drinking. The film The Deer Hunter is on. It's that scene when they're in the water and the helecopter only picks up one of them. So cold and wet and disappointed. Then the Vietnamese captors force them to play Russian roulette. Gun to the head. Piles of money (that would be the Vietnamese dong). Lots of jabbering in SE Asian dialects. Must be like Valerie's house when the hungry kids come home from school.

Not much else to put. I've done a spot of cleaning. Head cloudy. Head all over the place. Head much better now alcohol is in it. Now I feel clear.

I know the corned beef diet isn't a good one. Keeping myself alive has hardly been a recent priority which means eating fills me with conflict. I'm going to eat a bit of salad anyway. Salad's supposed to be good for you and it's really low in calories.

I wish Anna Grace Old would get in touch. Her dog has mites! She thinks the dog caught them off a mouse!

Tonkie Ears my pet wild mouse has deserted me well and truly so it's all depressing here. My back's better so cleaning will begin in ernest. My family say I should do things I enjoy but I enjoy nothing. Only thing that induced me into cleaning was that it's a torture and suffering is what life is all about. I used that reasoning and it worked. I got a binbag full of crap outside.

Now I got to go; it's 2:16am.

Mean Green Dull Machine

IT IS A WARM AND SUNNY AFTERNOON. I just got Night at the Museum 1 & 2 on DVD for £5. Try and cheery myself up. I have taken no heroin today and don't intend to. I bought a litre of hazelnut flavour Baileys instead. I might go out and get some coffee to put the Baileys in. Coffee and Baileys is really good.

Now I despair of ever feeling proper again. My friend Pinky says my moods are never normal, always up or down. She is probably right. They do go normal for a day or two but most of the time I feel noticably up or down. Of course I probably seem "normal" in anything bar an extreme extreme. Actually I don't know how I seem to others. Just thinking about that makes me paranoid.

I would spend ages down the park because fresh air is supposed to be good for you but it's just depressing. My Mum sent me a letter which is well meaning but talks about me getting chucked out on the street. (For not keeping my house in order.) I don't think she realizes I do know it would be more natural to be off meds and on the street. And it was WAY easier to live when it happened. No complications, that's for sure. I ate peanuts and corned beef and drank white cyder. I managed to do three days in a row on Valium and methadone with no heroin while I was homeless so homeless can't be that bad.

I have just collected my Mean Green Dull Machine (methadone). I'm on my way home. I'm not doing gear. Gear is a waste of time. Why was I taking it when it didn't work even when it was good. Buggerlugz said maybe it had sleepers in it, not to hit the spot but still make me unconscious. No what I meant was I felt the heroin in it, very heroiny. It stank of brown, too. It reeked when I cooked it up. There was brown in it. But it still doesn't make me happy so I give up.

Talking of giving up I really need to keep my drink in check. I'm not "drunk" by any stretch of the imagination. Or "a drunk". I just drink every day. Strangely I crave alcohol more in the morning than the evening. My evenings are mostly dry; my mornings aren't.

I should go to NA but can't face the thought of people laughing at me in there. I've turned up in some states and couldn't handle feeling boxed in by chairs, people sitting next to me, people looking at me etc etc. In other words I was paranoid. Now I feel depressed but am too paranoid to share it, in case someone finds it amusing.

Now I have to go I'll get cut off in a minute. I hope y'all are all right.


For Anna's prostitution in Hawaii blog post, click here.

Psychological Fly-Eyes

I KEEP GETTING MOOD SWINGS. I thought I was depressed earlier. I scored Valium, popped one blue one (10mg) and went to bed. Slept most of the afternoon. My risperidone is giving horrible side-effects you could describe as drowsiness except I can't sleep and Valium makes me feel way better. Alcohol does not. I'm telling the doc-doc.

From now on, until he tells me otherwise on my appointment on the 24th I'm taking both 2mg pills at midnight. Hopefully he'll change me to something else. Isn't quetiapine any good? Reading between the lines, and bearing in mind that the negative reports about quetiapine come from prison. American prison, which sounds crap as far as drugs go.

Not like British jail where gear is pretty widely used. In American jails of my grandparents' generation NUTMEGS were used as drugs. Nutmegs contain an MDA-like trippy E type substance. Apart from the nausea, vomting and diarrhoea it sounds like a really good trip, man. I mean if nutmegs are attractive in prison, quetiapine must be super-attractive. Reading between the lines I assume this means it doesn't give the bashed on the head with a frying pan feeling. People in jail were accused of drug-seeking behaviour when an antipsychotic was withdrawn. Quetiapine gives really good sleep. One thing you want in prison is sleep. And these people are accused of drug-seeking for wanting what we all want: a good night's sleep. America is one messed up country. (Of course Britain is not messed up at all (joke)). I know my dr. won't prescribe it. I knew when I came in I was destined whatever move I made to land rapidly in a checkmate situation. This is so obvious I probably didn't even post it. The Worst Is Bound To Happen.

The very nice lady psychiatrist in the Emergency Clinic mentioned LITHIUM which I REALLY DO NOT WANT. I'd do Valproate before lithium. Lithium requires blood-level testing. It makes you feel cold. It is toxic. It causes problems in focus, visual and mental. NOT what I want. Only good thing about lithium from what I hear is it's good with vinegar on fish and chips (tastes of salt).

My friend Mother Hubbs says she was on lithium before she switched to heroin. I noticed heroin was a fantastic mood-stabilizer. First thing I noticed (and this was before I knew Mother Hubbs) was that my previously tide-like moodswings had gone flat. I'd turned from the North Sea into an inland lake.

Now I'm like the Atlantic Ocean. if they do put me on stabilization crap I'd rather be like the Pacific. Still with tides and storms just not as bad. I'd hate to live on a flat line. That's what I hated most about heroin in the early to mid years. I never EVER woke up feeling happy, as I used to in my late 20s. My late 20s were the only time in my life when I got buzzing highs without drugs. Never happened in childhood, never happened as a young young adult. Only as I say in my late 20s.

Then later in my gear-using "career" I realized I felt hyped up without crack and crack was the only stimulant I used. I still felt hyped up after giving it up! Not all the time, episodically. I also got mildly depressed and horribly depressed on different occasions. I'm fed up of fighting my own moods they have become a real huge issue and have got bad enough that I hear voices, get paranoia, look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards and live in a dump during the worst parts. Now I have to clean up the dump (again). I'm FAR cleaner and more put together washing-wise. I wash my hair 3 times a week now. Before that it was about once every 2 months. Yeah I know it's all sad sad sad I'm not exactly keeping a blog to show y'all how cool I am. This is the truth about drug addiction and "mental health". Mental ill-health more like.

So I'm depressed earlier, feel like I've had a line of speed on one cup of tea later. Had another cup to make the speed a bit more full-on. Caffeine has the effect on me it only has on TV characters. Caffeine doesn't really make people rush about babbling does it. Never did that to me before. Only time I ever got high on tea was when I was on Prozac in my early 20s. Even then I was being told to calm down, and told I was acting "manic". The person who said this had two relatives with bipolar disorder, which kind of did my head in. I scrupulously hid anything "manic" from my doctors for years. Then I fessed up. Was a junkie by this time. Wasn't believed. Not really. Then it got so bad I was literally falling to pieces, going incoherent, acting like I was pretending to be a racing car (I wasn't "pretending to be" anything, I was saying what I was thinking, to myself. Luckily when I did this in the nuthouse I wasn't under assessment. The assessment happened in an interview where I was told I kept changing topics. I don't know about that. What I do remember is trying to answer everything ultra-precisely. So "how long?" to me meant on what precise day and what time did you first feel the way you feel now. I got totally lost in the multiplicity of eventualities inherent in any situation. My thoughts went up like a starburst. Mentally I felt like a fly. Viewing the world through endless angles through compound eyes.

So I'm not up or down or left or right. I'm still all over the place!

Does anyone know anything about old films? Are these any good. I got 'em on impulse for a tenner. Old war films remind me of sleepy Sundays smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. (Or white cyder.)

• The Desert Rats
• A Farewell to Arms
• The Longest Day
• Sink the Bismarck
• Twelve O'Clock High

Twelve O'Clock High is playing.



Illustrated: when I'm "ill" I think in starbursts and think in psychological compound eyes, seeing everything from every conceivable angle all at once. This gives overload, exhilarating overload or irritating overload, depending on the mood of the moment. I'd quite like to be a fly. Or better still a hornet. I'd have quite some fun being a wasp...

EVA CASSIDY: FIELDS OF GOLD



ANDREA BOCELLI, SARAH BRIGHTMAN: TIME TO SAY GOODBYE
At the Dubai Fountain
I've never been to Dubai, but I've been through Bahrain airport and Bahrain through the plane window looked amazing. All water-gardens and glittering glass towers. And their duty-free shop was perfume, alcohol and cigarettes paradise. I went into the squiggly-writing men's toilets which had hosepipes in the cubicles (to blast your arse). All these Yasser-Arafat men breezing in and out in robes. If I were an Arab I'd wear robes too. I hate a lot of western dress.

Too much to drink at 3am

AKH! ALCOHOL. Alcohol alcohol. I've drunk past a week's worth of alcoholic units in the past 24 hours. Her Majesty's Chief Medical Officer suggests I may safely drink 28 units, that's 280mls neat alcohol, in the course of a week. (Never a day.) Today I've had past 30, that's 300mls neat alcohol. 4 litres of white cyder. Akh. I am not proud.

In my youth drink was the most boring drug known to man. (That is: known to me.) Never in a million years was I tempted to knock back spirits (or even beer) in the day. Even down the bar I was as happy with lemonade as beer. Alcohol-free beer was good for me. Strangely, the student bar didn't stock that one...

My point being: I was never much of a drinker. Yeah: I got drunk a couple of times. Cross-eyed and unable to walk drunk. Stomach scrubbed out with a Brillo pad because you haven't eaten all day and don't know how to take care of yourself drunk.

The worst hangover I ever had didn't correct itself for three days. I drank a lot of cyder that night.

(Cyder becomes a recurring theme.)

I only got into drink because I thought I needed Dutch courage to beg passers-by for money. My sign said "HUNGRY PLEASE HELP." I made sure I never ate before I went begging, so my sign was in every way true. I never ate in those days until last thing at night. One meal a day. I thought skeletal looked good. Looking back at nasty snapshots I looked like crap.

Of course I was begging because I was broke. I was broke because I was on heroin. Drink and heroin made ready partners. Right from the beginning my Big Complaint about gear was that it was no longer doing it for me.

That was a big reason I put myself into rehab. I didn't appreciate just how much gear actually did until I took it away. Then I started to fall apart in an ugly way. Then I ran screaming back to the gear and all its fluffy cosiness.

And that was why I could never tolerate methadone. A friend once told me 60mg was equivalent to a £10 bag IV. At the time I thought: Nah, 60mg's worth way more than that. The druggieclinic give out 10mg to equate £10 gear (0.2g) as standard. But that's ridiculous. All these years later I can accept: my friend was right. When the gear was good, I could barely hold myself on 100mg. That was without a script ie I had no double habit. I would sweat heavily, even go into cramps on methadone at "high doses".

The methadone I bought came in the form of Physeptone pills. There was no question of anybody interfering with it. (Street-bought "juice" is very often watered, if only slightly.)

It wasn't until this Great Heroin Drought that methadone ever held me properly. Certainly better than the crap-arse gear going around a few weeks ago. Way better.

So as heroin's hold has faded, alcohol's has tightened. And I want out. I need out. I've had enough of intoxicating substances. It's time to go it alone.

I don't know how I'll do it, but it's time.

After the cyder ...

THIS MORNING... oh I am sorry; this AFTERNOON when I eventually woke up I was aching all over as if I'd fallen off a galloping horse the night before. What happened to me? I wondered. Then it came back to me: cyder happened!
I went to the chemist's and got my methadone.
Before that, I bought some more cyder: hair of the dog. (And it worked!)
After the chemist's, I went to the cheapest supermarket in England, Iceland, and purchased frozen Chinese takeaway ~ satay chicken (in spicy sauce, not mingy stringy bits of chicken on glorified toothpicks) plus chicken fried rice ~ £3 the pair. Back at home I slammed 'em in the oven. And with a couple of generous pinches of MSG on each they tasted wonderful. Worthy of my local Chinese but at half price!

Very moving: Trainspotting overdose scene ~ Soundtrack: Lou Reed ~ Perfect Day.
Yesterday, while my two friends were arguing, this tune came on television. They were talking about dead friends. And this tune and the subject matter and Tanisha's overwrought voice made me so emotional I nearly cried ...
The Susan Boyle version you can see beneath my yesterday's post. This is the Lou Reed 1972 original (from the year of my birth!) ~ as introduced to a whole new generation in the film Trainspotting.

LOU REED ~ PERFECT DAY ~ TRAINSPOTTING OVERDOSE SCENE...



The heroin in this clip is too cloudy, there's far too much water in the hit and he's blowing the vein and/or partially missing it ~ you can see that. He shouldn't be bruising up so quickly.

Trainspotting: full scene from the film "visiting Mother Superior":
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgCprJPSlpA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgCprJPSlpA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgCprJPSlpA

Perfect Sunday!

I SPENT the entire day with my Irish friend Patrick and a black girl I'd never met before who at first was lots of fun. We drank and drank white cyder. I bought Chinese sweet chili chicken pizza and cheese-and-onion-baked rolls. Tanisha bought the cyder. She grew more and more aggressive as we all got more drunk...

... in the end I had to go home before a full-on row broke out.

Oh, what a perfect day!

THIS is one of my favourite songs. Written and originally recorded by Lou Reed, the following versions, I think, are two of the best:

SUSAN BOYLE: PERFECT DAY



"BBC & STARS" (Lou Reed, Bono, Skye Edwards (Morcheeba), David Bowie, Suzanna Vega, Elton John, Sir Andrew Davies, Boyzone, Lesley Garrett, Burning Spear, Sir Thomas Allen, Brodsky Quartet, Heather Small (M People), Emmylou Harris, Tammy Wynett, Shane McGowan, Sheona White, Dr John, Robert Cray, Huey (Fun Lovin' Criminals), Gabrielle, Evan Dando, Courtney Pine, Brett Anderson (Suede), Visual Ministry Choir, Joan Armatrading, Laurie Anderson, Tom Jones, BBC Symphony Orchestra): PERFECT DAY

Hello and Thanks

Man I've had SUCH TROUBLE with such an EMINENTLY SIMPLE task as JUST TRANSFERRING MY OLD BLOG in its entirety to blogspot I've given up. If you're reading this, you're reading the right blog. Please tell anybody stuck on the other blogspot one that it's merely an archive, that's right I'm not going through some dumb-bottomed security procedure of typing in a word from the Czech dictionary only for it not to log me back in... don't ask, my friends, just don't don't ask...

As for what have I been doing. Nothing except toiling with these new blogs. Posting old rubbish on the other of these new blogs (go in my profile if you want to see it). Thinking about toiling on these blogs. Thinking about not being able to toil on these new blogs. Hitting the roof because of GOOGLE or whatever they call themselves "Beta" Blogger Blogspot. I don't know. I don't care. I just wish one of their executives had passed me by on my furious jaunt to the cyder shop when I'd just been compulsorily logged out for "dumping" too much. A double-entendre well-put, I hear you say.

Okay it's a drab sunny Sunday. I'm off round Mother Hubbard's for lunch in a minute. Gotta get a cyder before then. I'm parched as the Gobi, man.

Oh look I gotta go, gotta, go my head is spinning from blogs...

I'm falling over...

wh-oa-hh-!!!

PS The comment box ought to be up and running. Don't be shy now. Roll up! Come on! Let's be 'aving yer!
Still don't know about the colour scheme by the way......
OK L8Rs...